Maxerica: Rebellious

Chapter 2:

~oOo~Maxons Pov

Even as I was sleeping, I couldn't get her out of my head. Her long, fiery red hair. Her haunting, icy blue eyes. Her creamy, pale skin. That smile. Oh that smile. If that smile was a drug, I would be an addict. I could watch her smile as if it was my favorite movie. Over an over. Even her name was unique. America. America. I couldn't get over The way it rolled off my tongue. The way if tasted in my mouth. Better than anything the chefs could prepare.

She is quite unique and lovely, I couldn't wait to see her again. A teeny, tiny, sliver of a voice in the back of my head was chanting 'she is here for your brother', and it was kind of hard to ignore. But a bigger much more convincing voice in the back of my head was saying who cares.

I walked down to breakfast and found my brother along the way. We stopped outside the door and I looked at him. "You nervous?"

He laughed. It sounded forced and his nerves were practically bleeding through. "Just a bit. Did you run into anyone last night? I heard dad let you free, while I was on house arrest."

"Yes. Father did let me roam around as I wish. And I ran into a couple girls, 3 I believe," I said. The guard opened the doors for us. All of the girls stood to attention and curtsied in unison. We waved them off and sat due. "There was Celeste Newsome. She was pretty, but I didn't see her long enough to get much of a personality." I pointed her out to him. "There was Ashley. She seemed very...polite. And there was lady America. She was nice. I met her in the gardens. She really likes it there."

I pointed out America and Ashley to him and his eyebrows shot up. "She is quite beautiful," he commented.

I felt pure anger. I wanted to slap him across the face like a child and yell I saw her first. But I pushed it away. She is here for him. He is who she likes.

~oOo~ Americas Pov

I couldn't help but be hyper aware of everything Prince Maxon was doing. I was sneaking glances from the corner of my eyes and discreetly staring at him and Prince James. They were whispering in hushed voices and pointing enthusiastically. They even pointed at me.

Prince James stood and every girl in the room stood taller. Hair was fixed. Posture was straightened. Necklines were pulled down. Jewelry was adjusted. Everyone was ready for him to speak to them, to ask them on the first date. I just sat and stared at my hands.

Surprisingly he strode over to me and kissed my hand. "Lady America, would you like to accompany me to a private breakfast. I have decided to escort each lady to a private meal or activity over the course of a week. I would be honored if you would be first?"

I blushed scarlet and accepted his extended hand. "Of course your majesty."

"I much prefer James. His majesty is my father," he corrected.

"I rather like the name Prince James though," I admitted, though it wasn't true. I just did not want to call him by anything but his title yet, or ever. It didn't feel right.

He had already began to lead me out to a private part of the gardens, where a picnic fit for a king was prepared. I sat down, my dress fanning out around me. He sat down too and shot me a smile that used to take my breath away. But not so much anymore. It must of been the tv magic. Not so magical in person.

"Then, my dear, you may call me Prince James," James assured me. What was it with Schreaves and the whole my dear thing.

"I am not your dear," I snapped. "I bet you will prance around here and call everyone that."

"Well of course. All of the ladies here are very dear to me," he said gesturing his hand to the dining room doors not too far away from where we sat.